


desperate in your arms

by Capitola



Series: bodies reassembling down where the worms crawl [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Abuse of power by law enforcement, Biting, Community: criticalkink, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jail, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Poverty, Pre-Stream (Critical Role), Prompt Fill, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Hatred, Sexual Assault, Victim Blaming, hunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitola/pseuds/Capitola
Summary: The guard smiles genially at his captive audience. "Sometimes people pay a little fee in advance, so they aren’t here in the morning.”“We haven’t got any money,” Caleb says, which, though not strictly true, might as well be; the few silver and copper pieces they have tucked away in various pockets would make for a miserable attempt at a bribe.The guard advances a little closer. “There’s other ways to pay a fee.”In which Nott and Caleb put on a show.
Relationships: Nott | Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast
Series: bodies reassembling down where the worms crawl [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137983
Comments: 25
Kudos: 73





	desperate in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a prompt on the kinkmeme.
> 
> Title is from "So Desperate," by the Mountain Goats.

It's late, past midnight going on into the wee hours, when Nott and Caleb get picked up by the Crownsguard for rifling through a passed-out drunk's pockets. Normally the two of them would have had a split-second's head start, but they've been in this town three days, lost Frumpkin yesterday, and they've gotten a bit desperate, and a bit sloppy. Sloppy enough to get caught, and get caught red-handed, and they find themselves shut in the local jail as quick as anything. 

The town had seemed big to Nott, certainly bigger than Felderwin, which equates to big enough to make her nervous, but the jail is small. They have the room to themselves, save for a single guard on the other side of the iron bars who seems far too delighted to have this new source of entertainment. Nott's seen the type.

“Punishment for thieves is pretty rough around here,” the guard waxes on, eyes searching for terror in the new prisoners' eyes. “'Specially for outsiders. 'Specially for _goblins_ ," and he punctuates this by banging his club on the bar where Nott’s fingers had been moments before. She doesn't yelp, but shoots him a murderous look.

"Lashes enough to take the skin off your back, stocks, fingernails - depends on the mood the judge is in," he continues, pacing in front of them. "Luckily, we don’t make a record of arrests until the morning." He smiles genially at his captive audience. "Sometimes people pay a little fee in advance, so they aren’t here in the morning.”

“We haven’t got any money,” Caleb says, which, though not _strictly_ true, might as well be; the few silver and copper pieces they have tucked away in various pockets would make for a miserable attempt at a bribe.

The guard advances a little closer. “There’s other ways to pay a fee.” He gives Caleb a look, a look Nott recognizes as the one people give him when they’ve done the mental arithmetic of stripping away his beard and the dirt, and realize that, underneath that, Caleb is a very handsome and very vulnerable-looking man. It’s a look that turns Nott’s stomach for reasons she’s not quite comfortable with.

“You — you don’t want him!” Nott blurts out, before she can stop herself, flinching as both of them turn to look at her. “I mean, you shouldn't. You don’t know, you don’t know where he’s been. He’s got a, a venereal disease. From me. Because, because we fuck.”

The guard snorts. “We’ll see about that,” he says, his hand moving towards Caleb.

“No! You can’t — you can’t see them. But he’s got goblin lice. They’re small, and they’re really, really itchy.” 

The guard’s hand stills, inches away from Caleb. He looks as though he’s had an experience or two with things that cause painful itching and wouldn’t risk a repeat. “Goblin lice?”

“Goblin lice.” Nott is a terrible, terrible liar, but perhaps if she talks fast enough he won’t notice. She has learned from Caleb these last few weeks that hesitation is the easiest and worst mistake you can make when you're conning somebody. “Really tiny, _really_ itchy. Their eggs live in your spit, too,” she adds, trying to cover all her bases, trying not to picture the guard making Caleb kneel for him — 

The guard sneers at Caleb, as though he’s looked at him and found him wanting. “You two fuck?” he asks, motioning to Nott as though Caleb might have forgotten she is there.

“Ja,” Caleb says, before Nott can think about a response. “We can barely keep our hands off of each other, it’s a miracle we weren’t picked up for public indecency.”

“A human man who gets it on with something like that…” the guard clicks his tongue. “Coupla real freaks of nature here.” He considers something for a moment. “Alright. Show me.”

“What?” Nott says. This was _not_ how she thought this would go.

“I said _show me_ , unless you’re just as stupid as you are ugly. Use those teeth on him. Let him core you out with whatever diseased meat he’s got in his trousers. Then maybe I’ll consider that services rendered and let you go.” He grins, and it is abhorrent to Nott how clean and straight his teeth are, how awful that a character like this has the luck and the money to have such teeth. “Come on, you’ve even got a mattress in here. Nice little honeymoon suite.”

The mattress is thin and dirty-looking and Nott can tell even without inhaling, even with these weird goblin senses that interpret everything all topsy-turvy, that it smells. She looks at Caleb, and sees someone fragile, frightened, and disarmingly young behind his eyes. If they had time to themselves, even just a minute to talk properly without the guard seeing them, she's sure that they could come up with a better plan for getting out of here. But they don't, they just have this awful little opportunity being dangled in front of them. They should take it, she knows, but she's terrified to make the first move. 

Caleb's face shifts into another look, the one they’ve agreed upon that means “trust me, because anything I say or do from here on out is an act to get us out of here," and she realizes he's going to do it for her.

“You don’t need to tell us twice,” Caleb says, and there is something very un-Caleb-ish about his tone that would have made Nott freeze up, if not for the fact that right after saying that, Caleb scoops her up and kisses her. His scraggly unkempt beard is scratchy against her face, and his mouth tastes a little like her flask but mostly like vomit. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs between breaths, and Nott is grateful that at least she doesn’t have to pretend to think he’s a little bit handsome. He sinks down onto the mattress, balancing her on his lap.

It’s been a long time since she kissed anyone, longer still since she had sex, in a soft, warm bed with her husband underneath her and a heavy quilt on her shoulders. No. That’s gone. Nott never had a husband, Nott never had anybody. Nott’s in a jail cell kissing Caleb and it’s her first kiss and it’s only so the awful man now leering at them from a chair will let them go. 

“The little freak’s wearing too many clothes,” the guard calls, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Let me see her tits.”

Caleb is careful as he takes her clothes off, and she almost wonders if he’s watched her undress before, because he seems to know how to undo each layer, her coat, her sweater, her thin, stained undershirt, and finally her breastband. Her bandages only reach up her arms, and she hopes the guard doesn’t ask her to take those off. 

Her nipples stiffen with the chill, and the guard whistles appreciatively. “Lovely,” he says. “Who’d have thought something with a face like that could have such a rack.” 

Caleb cups her breasts with his hands, thumbs stroking at her nipples. She’s seen his hands shake when they’re in trouble before but his hands are steady, purposeful as he kisses her again, and she feels a twinge that she could almost mistake for arousal. 

“You too,” says the guard, indicating Caleb. “Can’t hardly see a thing with you in that big coat. And I bet she digs those claws in something nice.”

There is something awful to Caleb’s posture as he strips his own clothes off, his coat cast aside like it isn’t everything in the world to him. Nott supposes she’s _supposed_ to stare, they’re supposed to be — lovers, they’re supposed to have done this before. She has seen Caleb’s naked torso before, from a respectful distance, but now she can see the pink freckles that dot his shoulders and the fine hair on his chest. She tries to focus on the pucker of a burn scar on his shoulder, not the way that his ribs poke out above his belly in a way that makes her ache for not being a better thief, not taking better care of him. 

Caleb keeps kissing her, pulling her close to him and it’s easy to pretend for a moment that they’re just cuddling up for warmth, or better still that he’d _actually_ want to fuck her, rather than this mess. He moves her hands on his back with his, guiding her to dig down into his skin with her claws. Nott’s spent so long trying to figure out how to be gentle with her hands that it now feels wrong to be using them to cause pain, especially with Caleb, who has been hurt enough. 

“You should bite me, too,” Caleb whispers, and when Nott looks at him her unreadiness to do so must show in her face, because he grits his teeth and adds, in a hiss, “do it, _freak_.” 

She sinks her teeth into his neck and Caleb moans like he’s getting paid for it. “Just like that, baby,” he says, in that same voice that doesn’t quite sound like Caleb. He grasps her hips tightly, holding onto her like she’s an anchor as she makes raw red marks down his neck and shoulders. He slips one hand down further, into her smallclothes to rub at her clit, and she gasps, the raw sensation of being touched there again catching her completely by surprise. Caleb begins to slip her leggings and her smallclothes down, earning an appreciative murmur from the guard as Nott’s ass and legs are exposed. 

Nott doesn’t look at the guard, she keeps her eyes focused on Caleb, on the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he pushes a finger into her. She can’t tell whether the fear is making this easier or harder. 

“Just go ahead and fuck me,” she whines, already desperate for this to be over. 

“Listen to the little slut,” the guard laughs, misinterpreting her meaning. “Better go ahead and give it to her, sounds like she’s got you pretty well trained.”

Nott can’t tell whether he’s responding to her pleas or the guard’s instructions, but Caleb complies, undoing his trousers to expose his cock, flushed and hard. He moves Nott off his lap onto the mattress, and she feels the straw stuffing crackle under her hips. Caleb spits into his hand and rubs it over his cock before positioning himself at her entrance. 

It hurts when he pushes into her, and she tries to think of anything else so that it doesn’t hurt, tries to think of how much she’s wanted this, how many dreams she’s had about him making love to her since they started traveling together. She tries to look into his face to find solace, but his eyes are glazed when she looks into them, like he’s miles away. She tries kissing him again, kissing his neck, _biting_ his neck again, but he’s gone, and she wishes she could be gone like that too. She grips his back with her hands, finding comfort in his body held close to hers.

Nott can hear the motion of fabric and skin not far away, and she can guess what the guard is doing but she doesn’t want to look. She's not about to give him the satisfaction. She presses her forehead to Caleb’s collarbone, breathing the smell of his sweat, feeling the low thrum of his pulse. 

She wonders who else had Caleb bending over them like this, fucking them with the light gone from his eyes. Who taught his mind to go so far away when his hands and his body are working away. Who shaped his face to look so gentle when his eyes are so distant. 

Caleb pushes a hand between them again, his fingers pressed on to her clit, but she grabs his wrist, pulls his hand back to her waist, and he doesn’t fight her. She doesn’t want to come from this, doesn’t want to lose that control. Caleb’s thrusts go faster, his breathing more ragged, and she tries her best to moan like Caleb had, moaning to put on a show. He responds in kind, either purposefully echoing her to continue the act or caught truly enjoying himself. Ruefully, she almost hopes for the latter. One of them should at least be having a good time. 

“Nott,” Caleb whispers, gripping her hips tightly. “Oh Nott.” And he comes with a heavy, loud whine. She recoils, a little bit, at the sensation of his cum inside of her, more than she’s used to. It’ll be gross to clean up, as if baths weren’t hard enough for her these days. They pull apart, both of their heads hung low and not looking at each other.

The guard gives them a slow, mocking clap, his face twisted in that same satisfied sneer. He gets up, groaning as his back cracks, and makes for the door in a leisurely fashion.

"Wait!" Nott says. "Aren't you going to let us go?"

The guard looks at her incredulously, as though she's purposefully misunderstood him.

"Let you _go_?" He asks. "For a little show like _that_? I don't think so. But I'm off to visit the head, and if you were to unlock the door and get out while I'm in there, _that_ would be none of my business."

It stings even worse because he obviously considers himself to be doing them more kindness than they deserve. But as soon as the guard is gone, they scramble to dress themselves, and Nott picks the lock faster than she's ever picked a lock before. They stumble out into the night, and start walking.

They are quiet as they go, Caleb no longer quite as zombie-like as he had seemed in the jail but still dazed, not quite himself. Nott knows the feeling. They leave town without further incident, and pick back up in the direction they'd been heading in when they stopped here a few days ago. The road is dark but quiet, and though Caleb stays close to Nott, relying on her eyes to keep them on the road and spot any enemies in the dark, he does not reach for her hand. 

They’ve just passed the first mile marker outside of town when Nott decides she can take the silence no longer. She tries to keep her tone light, willing this night to become the story she wants to tell about it. 

“Should we...should we have a name for that? In case we have to do it again?”

All at once Caleb comes to life, and he gets down on one knee in front of Nott, grabbing her harshly by the shoulders. “Next time,” he says, with a barely contained fury, his eyes alight. “ _Next time_ you are going to stand by quietly while they do whatever they want to do to me. Do you understand? Not you. Never you.”

“Caleb — “ she starts to say, but he is not done yet.

“I am already — I am already damaged goods. Many times over. I should not have done that to you. I will not let it happen to you again. Do you understand me, Nott the Brave? Do you?” 

Nott is almost ready to start crying, but she doesn’t. 

“Do you understand me?” He repeats, his fingers digging into her shoulders and his voice almost crazed, and finally, Nott snaps.

“I’m not going to do that!” She says, and it’s harsher than it had sounded in her head a moment before. “That’s awful. I’m not going to just…we just won’t get caught again, right? How would you feel if it was me saying this to you?”

“It is not the same,” Caleb says, darkly. 

“Bull _shit_ it’s not! I’m not gonna let you do that. It wasn’t even… I didn’t even mind. I wouldn’t have minded, if he hadn’t...if we hadn’t been…” She’s shaking now, and she can’t get the words out properly. Caleb’s grasp on her changes, pulling her into a hug, and he’s shaking too. 

“Shhhh, shhh,” he says, his hand stroking her hair stiffly. “You are right, I spoke without thinking. We should...we should talk about this when we’ve had some rest, and some food. I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Nott murmurs, her face pressed into his shoulder, over the bite marks she left not even hours ago. 

Caleb stands back up, brushing the dirt off his knees. “Then perhaps we are not even, but we are together,” he says, “Keep your eyes peeled for a likely shelter, we should find a place to rest before it gets light.” 

“Okay,” she says, and he starts walking, and she follows after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [flammablehat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat) and [asterCrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash) for reading over this.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3 You can also find me on [tumblr](https://capitola.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/knitinerant).


End file.
